THE BIG ISSUE
The High Street and department stores,
Book holidays for two,
But sleeping rags in doorways;
I wonder what you'll do?
Will you book a night with HMV,
Sleep on some cellar grill;
Scour through bins at Pizza Hut,
Or choose a Barclays chill?
Ah, my child of moonlight,
For you the rising sun;
But we shall stay in beds asleep,
Until the day is spun.
Your life a world of passing feet,
Your hopes lie in the shod,
The bourgeois heeled with wallets sealed,
Their gifts, two words; 'Poor sod!'
And can you tell, high heels perhaps,
The trainers or the brogues;
The difference 'tween the givers and,
The curse of callous rogues?
Ah, my child of street life,
For there but God go I,
May hearts of passing strangers warm,
The cold beds where you lie.
Michael (Walsh). 2000
Inspired by beggars in shop doorways.